


Welcome to The Regina-Spanks-Emma-verse

by RowArk



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: Consensual spanking, F/F, Light BDSM, Spanking, Valentine's Day
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-21
Updated: 2017-03-27
Packaged: 2018-09-26 01:45:07
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 7,872
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9856460
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RowArk/pseuds/RowArk
Summary: A birthday gift for the wonderful Soulofsilence (my fave!!) ... it was supposed to be a Valentine's gift but I was a little late finishing it!





	1. Better Than Chocolate

**Author's Note:**

  * For [soulofsilence](https://archiveofourown.org/users/soulofsilence/gifts).



**Better Than Chocolate**

* * *

By RowArk

For Soulofsilence

* * *

_A/N: Happy Birthday Pskwa!_

* * *

 

It was Valentine’s Day.

Of course Emma knew it was Valentine’s Day. How could she forget? What with the mountain of flowers and teddy bears brandishing plush velvety hearts and boxes upon boxes of chocolates adorning David’s desk when she stepped into the station that morning.

“I thought you were supposed to get that stuff for Mom?” Emma asked, eyeing the desk suspiciously.

“Really, Emma? A husband can’t receive gifts from his wife? I thought you were the forward-thinking one…”

“You forgot, didn’t you?”

David sighed. “Yes. And your mother is quite intent on making sure I remember before I leave the station today, it seems. What did you get for Regina?”

Emma just snorted and headed into her office. As if Regina would want flowers or chocolates or some other mushy display of affection.

Or wait… would she?

Emma shook her head. Of course not. If she returned home from work that night with a giant teddy bear covered in hearts, Regina would likely laugh in her face and make some sort of classic Regina snarky comment, before fireballing the poor plushie right in Emma’s arms.

“I mean, it’s not like she mentioned wanting anything…” Emma muttered to herself, as she got down to work, pushing the idea of Valentine’s Day far from her mind.

By the time she left that afternoon, the gifts on David’s desk had at least tripled in quantity, and Emma knew he was going to have to pull out the big guns if he was going to come up with something to give Snow that even remotely compared to the trouble she’d gone to all day.

Emma shuddered, realizing she really didn’t want to know what that might entail.

“See ya,” she called, barely able to see the top of David’s head over an oversized stuffed gorilla wearing white boxer shorts covered in pink hearts. David nodded his acknowledgement, and she headed out the door.

As Emma drove past Granny’s, she could see that the windows were all plastered with hearts and, squinting, she could see through the window, between the hearts, that the tables had been fitted with red tablecloths and each had a tall white pillar candle in the centre.

She supposed, if worse came to worse and Regina had been expecting a gift, she could take her out for a romantic dinner and pretend Granny’s had  been her plan all along. It wouldn’t be Regina’s first choice of venue, not by a long shot, but it would be better than chocolate, at least.

When she pulled up in front of the mansion, she was excited, albeit slightly nervous, to find Regina’s car was already parked in the driveway. Regina rarely beat her home, and since Henry had the Valentine’s Day school dance right after school today, that meant that they could have a little bit of time together, completely uninterrupted.

Afterall, Emma was sure _that_ was what Valentine’s Day was all about, anyway.

“R’gin-” Emma stopped herself, mid-yell, as her voice caught in her throat. The moment she walked into the foyer, she saw it: dozen upon dozens of perfect long stemmed red roses, in delicate - and expensive-looking - crystal vases.

“Shit,” Emma whispered under her breath, her eyes darting back and forth between the large flower arrangements that seemed to adorn every available surface from the entryway to the kitchen.

“Did you say something, darling?”

Emma’s eyes snapped up, catching Regina as she stepped from the bottom of the stairs, looking fucking _perfect_ , as always, in a short, tight charcoal coloured dress and black pumps, a smile on her deep red lips as she tucked a stray piece of hair behind her ear.

Emma, for her part, stood gawking, in her white tank and tight jeans, one leg hovering in mid-air as she had been attempting to kick her boot off before getting caught off-guard by the flowers.

“Uh… hey,” Emma said, shaking her head to bring her back to her senses, as she finally managed to kick the boot the rest of the way off, and got started on the other one. “Are, uh, those for me?”

Regina raised an eyebrow. “Well, who else would they be for? It’s Valentine’s Day, you know.”

“Yeah, I, uh, I gathered that,” Emma said, still slightly frazzled as she stood back up, both boots now successfully off of her feet. “I didn’t think, uh, that we were doing the whole… gift thing.”

Regina’s smile tightened slightly, and it hit Emma like a punch in the gut. Regina had been expecting a gift. _Shit_.

“Oh, oh no, that’s alright,” Regina said, shaking her head slightly though her smile remained tight and maybe even a little forced.

“Shit, Regina, I’m sorry,” Emma insisted, trying to backpedal as quickly as she could. “I just didn’t think you’d be into the whole flowers and chocolates thing. I thought, maybe, you’d like something more intimate?”

“Intimate?” Regina asked, her expression shifting to one of more curiosity, which was a relief.

“Yeah, like… maybe a candlelit dinner?”

“You’re going to cook?”

“No, I, uh-”

“Don’t you dare finish that sentence with anything that involves plastic table cloths and unscented dollar store candles at Granny’s.”

“I… wasn’t going to,” Emma said, biting her lip and looking around, trying to think of something better. Romantic spontaneity wasn’t exactly her forté, and on top of that, she was quite sure all the fancier places in town were probably booked up at this point, and likely had been for weeks. She vaguely recalled Snow lamenting that she and David would have to go to their third favourite place, since they couldn’t get reservations at the first two, and that was mid-January.

“Just tell me the truth Emma, do you have something planned, or did I leave the office early for nothing?”

Emma gave her a sheepish grin. “Are you mad?”

“Mad? No,” Regina said, an oddly playful look in her eyes as she shook her head. Emma knew that look. “But perhaps a little… disappointed.”

“Oh,” Emma breathed, trying her best to suppress the little smile threatening to creep up on her lips as she realized what was really going on here: Regina wasn’t disappointed, she was setting up a scene, and Emma had walked right into it.

Not that she would have walked in any other direction, given the choice.

“Oh?” Regina repeated. “Is that all you have to say for yourself, Miss Swan?”

 _Miss Swan_. Now Emma knew without a doubt exactly where this was headed. By this point in their relationship, she’d learned to read Regina’s subtle cues like a book.

“No, I, uh, I uh,” Emma stammered, not so much because she didn’t have an answer, but moreso because her stomach was doing cartwheels at the prospect of what was about to happen, and she really was trying her very best to keep her excitement hidden. “I’m sorry?”

Regina shook her head, holding up a hand to silence Emma. “Sorry’s just not going to cut it this time, my dear.”

“What will, uh, cut it then?”

Regina quirked an eyebrow. “Oh, I think you know. Upstairs. Now.”

Emma didn’t have to be told twice. She smirked as she heard the click of Regina locking the front door behind them, and she was already halfway to their bedroom before Regina made it to the first step of the staircase. Perhaps she was being a little overly eager, but it was so rare that they got time for any of this.

Even though Regina entered their room a good thirty seconds behind Emma, she was still the first onto the bed, sitting in front of the pile of decorative pillows she insisted on arranging every morning, even though she knew Emma was just going to throw them all on the floor when they went to bed that night. She sat near the middle, and scooted back so her back was propped up against the pillows, and her stocking legs were stretched out straight in front of her.

Emma wasn’t sure when she’d taken off her heels, but she didn’t have time to even process it as Regina was already patting her lap, impatiently, like she’d been waiting an eternity for Emma to get there already.

“Hurry up,” she insisted, not that Emma needed any convincing. In one smooth movement - well, she thought it was probably smooth - she undid the button and zipper of her jeans while crossing the short distance to the bed, and laying herself down on her stomach, over Regina’s thighs. Shimmying her way out of her jeans part way through always hindered them, and Emma was mildly proud of her foresight, as far as that was concerned.

If Regina was impressed, she didn’t let on, as she let her right hand come to rest on Emma’s jean-clad ass, while with her left she brushed Emma’s hair away from her back, and over her shoulder so it could fall onto the bed, as Emma grabbed one of the smaller pillows to hold on to.

“I can’t believe _this_ is how I’m going to spend my afternoon off work,” Regina said with a sigh, trying her best to sound like punishing Emma was a total inconvenience to her, but from where Emma lay on the bed, her head turned and resting on her right cheek so she could watch Regina’s face from the corner of her eye, she could see the small smile Regina was trying to hold back and she knew this was _exactly_ how she’d intended to spend her afternoon.

In fact, she’d gone to lengths to ensure she would.

“I’m sorry,” Emma attempted, half-heartedly, knowing that Regina wasn’t looking for an apology, but feeling like she should say something.

“Too late for that, my girl,” Regina said, and she accentuated her point with a sharp smack to Emma’s left ass cheek.

Emma gasped, slightly, not because it hurt, but because it had been so long since they’d played like this, and even if the position was incredibly familiar, she somehow was always amazed at how much excitement and anticipation she’d built up without even noticing.

Emma squeezed the pillow a little tighter as a second smack landed on her other ass cheek, and after a few more, found herself burying her face in it to stop herself from crying out.

“Oh, no, darling,” Regina said, her hand on Emma’s head now, coaxing her to turn and look at her again. “I want to see your face. I need to know if you’re _really_ sorry.”

“Yes, My Queen,” Emma breathed.

Emma locked eye contact as she continued to pepper her ass with more smacks. In all her life, she never expected to enjoy the feeling of being _owned_ , and though she was quite sure that’s not how Regina would describe it, there was something so safe and reassuring about letting go of everything and putting completely, unbridled trust in another human being. There was a time she didn’t think she’d be capable of such an act, and yet here she was feeling completely calm and at peace while at Regina’s mercy.

The calm didn’t last long, however, because just as her ass cheeks were getting a little warm, Regina’s hand left her head and in an instant her fingers were in the waistband of Emma’s jeans, pulling them down to reveal her panties.

Emma hid her smirk as Regina made a small, surprised sound from above her. In all of the magical little tricks she’d mastered, she was sure that transfiguration was her favourite, especially when it could be used to change her plain white panties into thin black boyshorts inscribed with the words “It’s not gonna spank itself” in hot pink script.

Briefly, Emma had considered that this might not be the smartest move, considering the predicament she was in, but considering it was a predicament she _wanted_ to be in, she guessed she might as well take a chance.

And she was rewarded for it - with a harsh slap right on her tender sit spot.

“Ow!” she cried out, almost involuntarily.

“That’s what you get for being cheeky,” Regina commented. Emma wondered if that was an intentional pun, but she didn’t have a chance to ask, since Regina had already moved on and was back to spanking her ass cheeks, with a little more vigour than before.

Emma bit her bottom lip and squeezed the pillow a little tighter as she felt the skin on her ass really start to heat up. Regina wasn’t yet hitting her with the full force she knew she was capable of, but each slap was starting to sting a little more than the last one, and Emma knew this was the part where they crossed the line from kinky foreplay into punishment.

“You are in so much trouble, my pet.”

Emma felt Regina’s fingers in the waistband of her panties now, and in an instant, the last remaining barrier between the skin of her ass and the skin of Regina’s palm was removed. The cool air stung a little and Emma was sure her skin was already fairly pink. She marked easily, and she knew it, but Regina had yet to leave an actual bruise, and she wasn’t worried.

Emma nearly moaned into the duvet beneath her as the first skin on skin slap landed right on the fleshiest part of her right ass cheek. The sensation was so much more intense like this, and it was only heightened more by the sound of a bare hand on a bare ass.

As per usual, this part was accompanied by more gasps, and moans, and “ows” than the beginning, and Emma tried her best to keep herself from squirming when she felt Regina’s left hand pressing gently but firmly on her lower back to keep her still.

“Almost done,” Regina said, her comforting voice a contrast to the sharp slap to the top of the thigh that immediately followed. “You’re doing so well, my good, good girl.”

Her ass was on fire now, but still, Emma smiled at the praise. She knew as well as Regina that that was what she needed to make it through to the end. They’d decided ages ago, on Emma’s request, that all spanking sessions would end in tears, if she didn’t safeword first. Regina had been wary of committing to that, but Emma had insisted. She needed to cry for the resolution, and without it, the scene always felt incomplete and she’d end up feeling more agitated than relaxed.

Lucky for her, Regina had managed to become an expert on reading her body, and she knew exactly how long to let her squirm before delivering the last couple spanks; the ones that causes Emma to inhale sharply. That inhale was always immediately followed by tears, and today, when her hand made contact with a sit spot for the last time, it was no exception.

“Shh. We’re all done.” Regina stroked her hand lightly over Emma’s reddened skin, and Emma felt boneless as she let go of the last bit of tension she’d been holding in her.

She knew they weren’t really all done as she slid herself off of Regina’s lap and pulled her panties back up, opting to slide her jeans off completely rather than pull them back over tender flesh. Regina held her arms out for her, and Emma crawled back onto the bed, curling herself up on Regina’s lap, and letting her head fall onto Regina’s chest.

They weren’t all done, because this was her favourite part.

Emma shimmied a bit, until she found a comfortable position that was still mostly on Regina’s lap, but without too much pressure in tender spots. Regina wrapped one arm firmly around Emma’s lower back, her hand resting at the top of her bare thigh, while her other hand found its way to Emma’s hair, as it always did.

“You did so well. Such a good girl, I’m so proud of you.”

Emma sighed, closing her eyes and focusing on Regina’s reassuring voice.

“Did you learn your lesson?”

Emma nodded earnestly against Regina’s chest. “Yes! You apparently do want chocolates and teddy bears and all those deliciously vanilla things that other, normal couples do to show their affection on Valentine’s Day.”

Regina snorted. “There’s no such thing as a normal couple, Emma. And I don’t think you got that lesson quite right. Do we need to repeat?”

Emma’s heart beat a little faster. As much as she would be down for that, the skin on her ass said otherwise. “I was also going to add… don’t trust your girlfriend when she comes home early and has transplanted an entire greenhouse of roses in your home, because she’s definitely up to something.”

“Hmm, that sounds about right.”

“Truthfully, though, did you want that stuff? Because I really didn’t think you’d be into it, and I kind of thought I was getting good at reading you.”

Regina leaned forward and placed a warm kiss on Emma’s forehead. “No, I didn’t, and yes, you are. All I wanted for Valentine’s was this. Chocolates and teddy bears is just so very… Snow White.”

“Ugh, can you not mention my mother right now?”

“Sorry. I just meant, it’s not us. And I’m okay with that. Those panties were a nice touch, by the way.”

Emma grinned. “This was better than chocolate any day!”

Regina hugged her tighter. " _You're_ better than chocolate everyday. My Valentine."

 **Fin**  

* * *

 

 

 


	2. Tough Cookies

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: So I decided to expand on my one-shot "Better than Chocolate" with a series of one-shot fics that all occur in the same verse (which I have dubbed The Regina-Spanks-Emma verse). They will be chronological, but not a multi-chapter fic as they will all stand alone as well.
> 
> So here's the second installment:

 

* * *

**Tough Cookies**

By RowArk

For soulofsilence

* * *

It was the smell of fresh baked cookies that awoke Emma late that Sunday morning.

She could sleep through a great many things - phone calls, alarms, the sunshine currently splayed over her face - but she had one weakness, and that was the smell of cookies baking. Well, two weaknesses, really, because bacon would have had the same effect, but it was cookies that caused her to groan and stretch and roll out of bed this morning.

It was just past eleven, and Emma already knew she was the last one awake. Henry had plans to meet up with his friends in the morning and he was probably already gone, and Regina never slept in, even on Sundays.

The smell of baking was indication enough to Emma that the bed was empty, but she still doubled checked before heading to the closet to slide into a pair of skinny jeans and a white tank top, and then set off to find Regina.

When she reached the kitchen, however, she was surprised (and a little dismayed) that she didn't come across Regina bending down to pull another batch of cookies from the oven, but instead found an empty kitchen with a platter of cookies on the counter. Chocolate chip. And there was a note beside them:

_Dear Emma,_

_I went to the store to pick up some more parchment paper. I'll be back soon. Do NOT touch any of the cookies._

_I'm serious Emma, I'll know. I know exactly how many are there._

_Love Regina_

Emma frowned. Her stomach was already growling at the aroma of the cookies, but she didn't have a single doubt that Regina would count them when she got home, just to make sure. Emma also didn't doubt that Regina did it just to torture her.

She sighed and drummed her fingers on the note, deciding if it would be worth it to steal just _one_ cookie anyway, when a thought occurred to her: if Regina was getting parchment paper, that meant she wasn't done baking. If she wasn't done baking, there was a good chance there was cookie dough hiding somewhere. The note just said not to touch the cookies; it didn't say not to touch the _dough_.

Emma grinned to herself, knowing, even as she opened the fridge, that Regina had probably weighed it or taken a picture on her phone just to make sure Emma hadn't touched it, but all consideration of that was quickly forgotten when she spotted the mixing bowl in the fridge, neatly covered with Saran wrap, calling to her…

… _just one spoonful, Emma…_

"Just one," she muttered out loud, already knowing that there was no way she was going to stop at one - she never could - but it made her feel better as she opened the drawer and grabbed a spoon. She carefully peeled back just enough of the cling wrap to get her spoon in the bowl and get a generous, but hopefully inconspicuous, amount of dough from the bowl, and happily brought the spoon to her lips.

Emma closed her eyes in bliss the moment the gooey chocolate chip confection met her tongue. She'd heard that raw eggs weren't good for you, but licking dough from a mixing bowl was a rite of passage she'd missed out on as a kid, and she always revelled in the opportunity when it presented itself now. Snow had warned her about the dangers of salmonella when she'd been living at the loft, but she was pretty sure she had an iron stomach anyway.

The experience was over all too soon, and Emma found herself absently tapping the spoon on the counter, and staring longingly at the fridge.

Just one more.

One more spoonful quickly turned into five, and before she knew it, she heard the all too familiar sound of Regina's heels clicking on the hardwood of the entryway.

Spoon in mouth, Emma quickly scrambled to get the Saran wrap back on the bowl perfectly, but it was too late.

"Emma? What are you doing?"

_Busted._

Emma pulled the spoon from her mouth and did her best to hide it behind her back and she spun around before even getting the fridge closed. Her mouth was still full of cookie dough and her eyes were as wide as saucers.

"Nuffing."

"What's in your mouth?"

Emma shook her head and shrugged, trying to swallow the dough as quickly as she could, even though she knew she was caught.

"Emma?"

"Nothing," Emma repeated, after swallowing.

Regina narrowed her eyes, and then glanced at the still half-uncovered mixing bowl in the still open fridge. "I told you not to touch the cookies."

"I didn't," Emma replied, as innocently as she could.

"Well, then why is the mixing bowl uncovered and at least a quarter of the dough missing?"

Emma glanced at the bowl. Had she had more time, she would have attempted to smooth it over, but there was quite obviously a large chunk of dough missing. She'd eaten more than she realized.

"Well, that's cookie _dough_ , not cookies."

Regina crossed her arms and raised an eyebrow. "The dough is the essence of the cookies, Emma. It's what they are. A bowl of dough is just a giant bowl of uncooked cookie."

"But it's not a cookie."

"It's what cookies are made of."

Emma threw up her arms in mock exasperation. "Well, I mean, I'm made mostly of water but you don't look at a glass of water and say, 'hey, it's Emma!'"

"Do you even listen to yourself when you talk?"

"Not this early in the morning."

"It's almost noon," Regina pointed out. "Now, cover that bowl back up and close the fridge. Right now."

Smirking, Emma glanced at the fridge, and then back at Regina. "Or what?"

"Oh, you're about to find out."

Feigning disinterest, Emma watched as Regina re-covered the bowl herself and closed the fridge, before heading over to the kitchen island. Regina then cleared the surface of all her baking implements, and then motioned for Emma to join her beside the island.

She patted the countertop.

"Bend over."

Emma felt the butterflies in her stomach as she turned and surveyed the counter top. She tried to suppress her smile as she bent herself over, knowing exactly what Regina had in mind. In the past, they had discovered that the fact that it was perfectly waist height could be useful in other situations, but this was the first time she'd be spanked over it.

The marble surface was hard and cold, and her flimsy tank top was no kind of barrier, so Emma braced herself against her forearms, grateful for the strength in her triceps as she let her chest hover less than an inch over the counter top.

Behind her, Emma heard a drawer open and then close, and she wondered what Regina was getting. Regina's mind worked quickly in these situations, and she wondered what she was planning on using.

She'd ask, but she'd learned from experience that the anticipation and the surprise were half the fun of their little game.

"Ready?"

Emma nodded, and let her forehead rest lightly against the counter top. "Yes, my Queen."

The first blow came hard and fast against her left ass cheek, and even through the denim still covering it, Emma guessed the object right away.

"Ow… oh… oh God…" Emma shuddered with the second blow that landed in quick succession.

"Yes, dear?"

"Wooden… spoon…"

"Well, yes. I'd say the punishment fits the crime, wouldn't you?"

Before Emma could answer, Regina hit her again, harder this time, and it stung. Emma bit her lip. The sting immediately gave way to a surge of warmth, and Emma remembered just why she loved the spoon so much.

Another crack of the spoon, and then another, and it was all Emma could do to keep still. Regina must have noticed her squirming, because she felt a firm hand flat on her lower back. Emma was already sweating, her arms beginning to shake as she held her upper body as level as she could, parallel to the counter top.

With a sharp _thwack_ , the spoon landed again, a little lower this time, much closer to a sensitive sit spot, and with a gasp, Emma gave up her now feeble attempt at hovering and let herself fall completely against the cool marble surface. The cold wasn't so offensive now, and it was more a welcome relief for her overheated body.

Another blow, close to her other sit spot, and Emma felt Regina's fingertips sliding into the waistband of her jeans, just above her left hip. Emma shivered against Regina's cool touch, and immediately regretted that she wasn't wearing any panties under her jeans. That meant as soon as they came off, it was going to be wooden spoon against bare flesh, a thought that both enticed and flustered Emma at once.

Regina tightened her grip on Emma's waistband as she landed another blow, right on her sit spot this time. Emma whimpered, stretching her fingers against the smooth surface, finding no relief there, since there was nothing to hold onto. The tears were already burning at the corners of her eyes, sooner than she'd expected.

She squirmed against the counter top again, waiting for the spoon to land again. Something didn't feel right, but she couldn't focus as she felt the sharp sting on her other sit spot. She shook her head, trying to focus.

Three or four more hits in rapid succession - Emma really wasn't sure how many had just landed - and suddenly it was too much.

"Ow… no more… cookies!" Emma finally managed to get out, through panting breaths.

Regina paused. "Are you safewording? Or expressing remorse?"

"Safeword! Cookies!" Emma cried out, sliding back slightly and rolling partway onto her side so she could look at Regina.

Regina set the spoon down on the countertop and looked back at Emma with concern. "What's wrong?"

"I don't feel good," Emma whined, her hand making it's way to her stomach. It hit her fast, and suddenly it felt like the cookie dough had decided to wage war against her body. "How long does it take to get salmonella?"

Regina smiled and shook her head, leaning forward to brush the hair away from Emma's face with one hand. "You don't have salmonella. What you have in an acute case of way too much raw cookie dough on an empty stomach."

Emma groaned, steadying herself with one hand to bring herself to a standing position. "It really hurts!"

"I'm sure it does," Regina agreed, rubbing Emma's back. "But I promise you will live. Go upstairs and get into bed. I'll be up in just a minute."

It was all Emma could do to keep herself from pouting as she headed back towards the stairs, one hand clutching her abdomen as the other rubbed her sore ass. It wasn't nearly as sore as it should be, and she cursed her stomach for betraying her like this.

Once she made it back to their bedroom, Emma slid out of her jeans and tossed them ungraciously into a heap on the floor. She considered pajama bottoms for a moment, but the flesh of her ass was still stinging, so she decided to forego them, and instead slid back into the unmade bed, in just her tank top.

She curled herself up on her side in the fetal position, and waited for Regina.

True to her word, Regina really only was about a minute, and soon enough, Emma felt the bed dip behind her, and Regina was slipping under the blankets, sliding up against Emma's back.

"I think maybe my good girl needs a different kind of spoon right now," Regina murmured into Emma's ear as she snaked an arm around her.

"I'm not a good girl today," Emma muttered. As much as she knew safewording was part of the game, she always felt disappointed when she had to do it.

"Stop that." Regina pressed herself up a little more snugly against Emma's back and slid her hand down to meet Emma's on her abdomen. She slipped her hand under Emma's and began to rub soothing circles against her stomach. "No feeling guilty and beating yourself up. We've talked about this."

Emma sighed. "I know. But you know I hate to let you down."

"You could never let me down, Emma. Especially not with your safeword. You know that."

Emma nodded. She did know, but old habits died hard.

"And you didn't let me down, my darling, because I think you will agree that the next best thing to Sunday spankings is Sunday snuggles."

This time Emma smiled. "Yeah, but I'm not so fond of Sunday stomach aches."

"Is this helping?" Regina asked, continuing to rub Emma's stomach.

"Yeah, a bit. But I swear, I'm never eating cookie dough again!"

Regina let out a low laugh behind her. "I'll believe that when I see it. Is this like the time you swore off vodka forever? If I remember correctly, that lasted all of one week."

"To be fair, I couldn't not take shot on Ruby's birthday, because that would have been rude. And also, I forgot what was in a Kamikaze."

"Hmm… or, just because it's _made of_ vodka, that doesn't mean it _is_ vodka?"

This time, it was Emma who laughed. "Yeah. Exactly."

"How does your ass feel?"

"Sad."

"Sad?"

Emma shrugged. "You know how much I love that spoon."

"Well, I suppose I'll have to give you a raincheck."

Emma grinned. "Not gonna lie, I'm probably gonna end up stealing some of those actual cookies."

"Well, I made them for you in the first place. The note was a game, you know? I didn't expect you to go for the dough instead. I didn't even leave the house."

Emma shook her head. "Figures. That's why I never heard the door."

"Mm-hmm. I expected to find you with a cookie in your mouth, not a spoon behind your back. Though, that is what inspired my punishment of choice."

"Well, I'm glad I could be so inspirational."

"You always are, my beautiful, silly, sweet, good good girl."

* * *

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Not gonna lie, the feeling sick part was inspired by me, the last time I ate raw cookie dough, though no one spanked me with a wooden spoon or cuddled me after, so I had to rectify the situation via fic!
> 
> Until next time! Oh, and the next fic is going to involve a different spanking element, a bit of roleplay, and occur in a location other than the mansion… because there's a million and one way Regina could spank Emma, and it's my duty to write them all!


	3. Chapter 3

Hot For Teacher

By RowArk

For Soulofsilence

* * *

 

_Emma, can you come to the school at lunch? I'm in room 15 and I need your help with something…_

Emma stared at her phone screen. For a moment, she'd almost thought that text had come from her mother, but no, it was from Regina. She was at the high school today to give some presentations for Career Day, in hopes of steering the children toward taking summer jobs in the coming months.

Emma wondered what she could possibly need help with now. After all, she'd asked her about forty times last night if she needed help, and Regina had refused it. Well, that wasn't exactly true. Actually, she'd asked her repeatedly if she was "done yet" and "coming to bed anytime soon?" to which Regina had gracefully responded by telling her she'd "be done a hell of a lot faster if you'd leave me alone and stop pestering me like a child."

So Emma has taken it upon herself to make a bowl of popcorn, put on a movie and pass out on the couch, since Regina clearly hadn't needed her help.

_What up?_

Emma hadn't received a text back, so she just headed to the school when her lunch break came. Regina's Mercedes was still parked out front, so Emma headed inside and made her way down to room 15.

When she reached the door, the blind on the window was pulled shut and she sighed. She made a mental note to never let Regina hear the end of it if she'd gone someplace else in the school and not bothered to tell her and she was forced to spend the rest of her lunch break searching for her.

But a test of the doorknob proved it to be unlocked, so Emma let herself into the room and found Regina at the desk in the front of the room, looking over some papers. Emma immediately noted that the blinds on all the windows were shut as well, and all but one light was turned off. Something was wrong.

"Hey," Emma said, as softly as she could while ensuring that Regina would still hear her. "What's up? Do you have a migraine?"

"What?" Regina looked up, confused, before glancing around the room. "Oh, no, I just wanted to be free from distraction so I closed all the blinds."

"Ah. And turned off the lights?"

Emma could have sworn she saw the hint of a smirk on Regina's lips, though she couldn't fathom why.

Regina shrugged. "Electricity isn't free, Miss Swan."

Emma's breath caught in her throat. Lately, there was only one thing that Regina using that title meant, but… no, there was no way. They were practically in public.

"What's the matter?" Regina asked, looking up again and meeting Emma's eyes. "No witty comeback?"

"Uh… what exactly did you need help with?"

"Well," Regina began, elongating the word just enough to indicate that she was up to something. "I'm finding I'm having a little difficulty connecting with the students, so I was thinking you could help me with that."

"What, like, give you advice on how to talk to teens?"

"Not exactly. I was thinking more like… a role play scenario."

Emma's mouth went dry. "Role play?"

"Yes. You'll play a student and ask me questions so that I can practice."

"Oh," Emma replied, trying not to sound too disappointed. "Oh, um, okay I guess."

"Did you think I meant something else?"

"What? No… I don't know. I'm not sure I know how to act like a student. It's been a long time, you know?"

Regina frowned, and took a moment to let her eyes roam over Emma's body. "Good point. You certainly don't look like a student."

Emma snorted. "Well, I hope not."

"Well, that's easy enough to fix."

Before Emma could ask what that meant, Regina flicked her wrist and Emma felt magic all around her. Momentarily, she was afraid to look and see what Regina had done. "I swear to God if you turned me into a teenager…" Emma's voice trailed off as she let her eyes travel downwards. In place of her jeans, tank top and leather jacket she now wore a short plaid skirt, black knee high socks and a white button down shirt that was about three sizes too small and tied at her ribcage, exposing her bare midrift.

"Okay, Regina, what the hell?"

"Well, now you look the part."

"I look like I belong in a Britney Spears video! And oh my God, anyone could walk in here you know!"

"There's barely anyone here right now," Regina insisted, but still flicked her wrist again, and Emma heard the door lock. "And I think you look good."

"Of course you do. This skirt is so short you can practically see my vagina."

"Don't be crude, Miss Swan. We're in a school."

"Right." Emma rolled her eyes. "So, what now, you want me to go sit at a desk and raise my hand? Like, Miss Mills, I have a question?"

Regina smirked. "Well, you can come sit on my lap if you really want."

"Oh, yeah, because that's appropriate student-teacher interaction."

Regina raised an eyebrow as she leaned back in her chair. "I seem to remember I once dated someone with a teacher fetish…"

Emma crossed her arms. "It's not a fetish… it's just, like, a fantasy… or something. Whatever. I have a thing for hot women in a position of authority, alright?"

"Mm-hmm."

Emma watched intently as Regina turned her attention back to the papers on her desk. This time, however, she seemed less interested in what was on them as she pushed them all off to the side, and then opened one of the drawers.

"How do you feel about corporal punishment, Miss Swan?" Regina asked, off-handedly.

Emma narrowed her eyes suspiciously. "I think we both know the answer to that question."

"Mm-hmm," Regina repeated, still appearing more interested in whatever she had in that drawer than anything else in the room. Whatever it was, Emma guessed it must be pretty damn enticing, considering she was still standing there, half bare.

"Okay, seriously, what do you have in that drawer?" Emma asked, after watching Regina rummage around in the drawer for a few more moments.

"Well, I was thinking…" Regina began, in a way that let Emma know that whatever she was 'thinking' wasn't something that had occurred to her just now. "That maybe a little stress relief might actually be a little more helpful."

"Stress relief?"

"Mm-hmm. Maybe it will help me relax a bit and the afternoon will go better."

Emma raised a quizzical eyebrow. "And just what did you have in mind?"

"Well…" Regina stopped and took a moment to take in Emma's figure in her schoolgirl outfit, yet again. "It's no wooden spoon, but I was wondering what you might think of a wooden ruler?"

Emma's heart skipped a beat as Regina withdrew the ruler and tapped in on the wooden desk a few times, for emphasis, as she shut the drawer.

Suddenly, all worries of being in a school, or just how short and skimpy her current attire was, left Emma's mind completely as she watched Regina stand up from her chair, turn, and sit on the desk instead, crossing her legs in a smooth motion. Emma's eyes were immediately drawn to Regina's legs, long and sleek in dark nylons under her black pencil skirt. She followed the line of her thigh, to her calf, to her black pumps.

"What do you say, Miss Swan?" Regina asked, drawing Emma's attention back upwards. Regina was gripping the ruler tight in one hand, and tapping it rhythmically against the palm of the other. "Do you want to play 'bad student, bad teacher'?"

"Fuck," Emma breathed out, her pulse racing with excitement. This really was her fantasy, and she had to wonder if Regina had already planned on creating this little distraction this morning when she chose the tight red satin blouse that Emma loved so much, especially wear the button strained against her breasts, threatening to break at any moment.

"Swearing in my classroom? Naughty, naughty," Regina said, shaking her head in mock disappointment. "I just won't tolerate this behaviour."

"I'm so sorry, Miss Mills," said Emma, jumping right into the roleplay, assuming that addressing Regina as if she really were her teacher would be more appropriate right now than her usual title of 'My Queen'.

Regina smiled briefly, before turning her expression serious once again. "Too late for that, young lady. Only one thing to do with bad girls like you."

Emma faltered slightly. She didn't generally like it when Regina called her a bad girl, but she reminded herself it was just play. Either way, Regina was tapping the empty space on the desk to the left of her, and almost without conscious thought, Emma was on her way over, laying herself over the desk.

The wooden desk was a fair bit shorter than the kitchen island at home, and with her hips lined up to the rounded edge, Emma had to bend her knees and hold herself up on her toes to get at the right angle. She reached reached for the other edge of the desk to hold on, and relaxed against the hard wood, letting the surface support her weight.

Emma bit her lip as she felt Regina shift next to her, a moment before she felt her hand pressed down flat on the skin of her bare back. She was grateful for the desk holding her up, as her legs began to tremor with anticipation.

"How many do you want?" Regina asked, as she pressed the end of the ruler against the skin on the back of Emma's thigh, right above where the knee high socks ended, and began to slide it slowly upwards. "How many do you think you can take?"

Emma considered that as she felt the ruler slide over her ass cheek. Her pain tolerance was high, but her panties were thin and she didn't have the added benefit of starting out in jeans to warm up. "Twenty?"

Regina flicked the end of the ruler, and Emma felt her skirt flip upwards, exposing her panty clad ass. "Is that a question?"

Emma shook her head against the desk. "No, Miss Mills. Twenty."

"Very well. I expect you to count."

Without another moment's warning, the ruler came down hard across Emma's ass, causing her to gasp. It stung a little more than the spoon, and unconsciously Emma gripped the edge of the desk a little harder.

"One."

The second smack criss-crossed the first one slightly, enough to elicit another gasp from Emma, and in the back of her mind she was wondering if choosing twenty had been a little over zealous on her part.

"Two!"

Three, four and five came down in quick succession, two on her right ass cheek and one on her left. She anticipated the sixth one to land on her left side as well, but instead it came on the right, hard on a tender sit spot.

"Shit!"

"Pardon me?"

Emma shook her head. "Six!"

"That's better."

Emma's ass was already on fire by the time they reached ten, and Regina paused. Emma was about to ask what was wrong, until she felt Regina's fingers in the waistband of her panties. She lifted her hips to allow easier access, and before she knew it, her panties were down around her knees and there was another quick smack against bare flesh.

"Mmmm… eleven."

It was the perfect amount of pain mixed with pleasure and Emma marvelled once again at just how damn good at this Regina was.

A few more sharp swats, and they were already at sixteen. Emma was almost disappointed that they were nearly done, but her ass was throbbing and she knew she wouldn't be able to take many more if she planned on sitting down any time within the next week or so.

Emma moaned before muttering out "sixteen". Despite the sting, her eyes were closing as she totally relaxed against the desk. Maybe she'd needed this stress relief just as much as Regina did.

Another strike against a sit spot and Emma was jolted back into reality. "Seventeen!" she declared, almost triumphantly.

Smack, smack. Eighteen and nineteen landed, one on each ass cheek, before the last strike landed perfectly across the middle of her ass.

Emma sighed. "Twennnnty."

One of Regina's hands was still pressed against the small of her back, so Emma didn't bother trying to get up just yet.

"Shhhh," Regina soothed from above her, as she began rubbing gentle circles over the burning skin on Emma's ass. "It's alright. We're all done."

It took until that moment for Emma to realize she was crying. She had been so lost in the bliss that she hadn't even noticed, but sure enough, soft sobs wracked her body.

"You did so well. Such a good, good girl."

Then she remembered.

Emma stiffened, and moved back to stand, taking Regina by surprise because she was usually so calm and placid after a good spanking session. She pulled her panties back up and winced as she sat down on the desk next to Regina, deciding to late that maybe that was a bad idea.

"What is it, Emma?"

"You called me a bad girl," Emma said, feeling almost childish as she did, but it was important to her.

"No I did-" Regina stopped herself mid-sentence. "Oh. I did."

Emma looked down at her hands on her lap. "Yeah."

"Emma, I'm sorry. I completely forgot. I know that's a limit for you."

Emma shrugged. "It's fine. It's not a big deal."

"It's not fine." Regina stood and moved back to the chair, holding her arms out for Emma. "Come here, my love."

Emma didn't hesitate before clammering off the desk and onto Regina's lap, where Regina wrapped her arms around her and held her tightly. Emma let her head fall on Regina's shoulder.

"I'm sorry, Emma," Regina repeated, as she stroked Emma's hair with one hand, and Emma's eyes drifted shut again. "Your limits are important. I promise I'll pay more attention to my words next time."

"Kay."

"Forgive me?"

Emma nodded. "Course."

"Are you going to fall asleep?"

"Maybe," Emma admitted, though she knew there would be no actual chance of that happening, since soon there would be students in this classroom again, and Regina still had presentations that afternoon. "I need the rest."

"Oh, do you? For what, I wonder?"

Emma smiled against Regina's neck. "For tonight."

"And what's tonight?"

"Well, Henry's spending the night at Nick's…"

"Mm-hmm."

"So we have the house to ourselves…"

"Yes."

"So… you get to prove that you're really sorry by doing that thing you know I love that always makes me scream."

"Oh, I do, do I?"

"Yep."

"Hmm. Well, I'll do it twice if you come to bed tonight wearing this outfit."

Emma smirked. "Who's the one with the fetish now?"

"Fetish? Oh, no. I just enjoy the easy access, compared to those damn jeans of yours."

"I don't think I'll be wearing those jeans for a few days," Emma admitted. "I'm not sure I'll even be able to sit down."

"I'm sure you'll manage," Regina said with a smile, before turning to plant a kiss right on Emma's forehead. "You always do. My good girl."


End file.
